


It must be ~fate~

by mrscolesprouse



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Betty doesn't believe in love, Betty is kinda sassy, But Jughead changes her mind, F/F, F/M, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, I'm so sorry Betty, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jughead's an angel without wings, Love, Love at First Sight, Soulmates, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, also i reread the first chapter and i...hate it but that's fine, bughead - Freeform, but like chic's storyline is also not canon at all, canon but like not canon, go read that book, i grabbed canon and then added more torment to betty, i'll add more tags as the fic progresses, inspired by the sun is also a star, jughead is from riverdale but he leaves so it's not canon in that regard, there MIGHT be some smut, they both have shitty families
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2019-12-26 18:40:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18288014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrscolesprouse/pseuds/mrscolesprouse
Summary: Love is a bizarre concept in reality. Of course, in the movies, its over-romanticised and painted out like a beautifully perfect watercolour painting of sunshine and rainbows with the occasional fight to seem a tiny bit realistic. That’s why I don't believe in it. My life has been one hell of a rollercoaster and frankly, I have no time for false hope and break-ups. Love in the real world consists of divorce papers and screams that echo the hallways. Only the cries of a mother and the hushed murmurs of a frustrated father. No laughter. No happiness. There are no sparks that fly through the air when you first touch your one great love. There’s no connection between two souls. And there’s no fate.---A fic where Betty doesn't believe in love but Jughead changes that.





	1. Love

**Author's Note:**

> Hi y'all! I'm back. Well, technically I haven't left yet. It's still the first day of having this account but it's been a couple of hours so I'm back from...eating. Anyways. Here's one of my fics that I started and I'm really excited about it. I have no idea when I will update...I'm going to try. I will try. But your little girl has her good days and bad days. There's a big chunk of writing in here that came from my own anxiety attack. Like I sat and wrote all the shit I was feeling. You can probably spot it in here somewhere. But ya. I have mental health issues and some weeks are better than others. Check in with me on Tumblr or Twitter if you want to see what I'm up to. I have started the second chapter but considering this is my first real FF, it's hard to write lengthy fics. 
> 
> Anyways. Enjoy this. Please please please comment and send me some kudos :)
> 
> This is also my own editing...I don't have a beta but you know..hmu if you wanna be...

Love is a bizarre concept in reality. Of course, in the movies, its over-romanticised and painted out like a beautifully perfect watercolour painting of sunshine and rainbows with the occasional fight to seem a tiny bit realistic. There’s the classic meet-cute or enemies to lovers tropes, from roommates to lovers and co-workers etc. It is unrealistic and frankly, dumb. That’s why I don't believe in it. My life has been one hell of a rollercoaster and frankly, I have no time for false hope and break-ups. Love in the real world consists of divorce papers and screams that echo the hallways. Only the cries of a mother and the hushed murmurs of a frustrated father. No laughter. No happiness. Love means being committed to one person for the rest of eternity based on dates and sex. It’s all mirage. There are no sparks that fly through the air when you first touch your _ one great love. _ There’s no connection between two souls. And there’s no fate. Fate is also a bizarre concept in reality. That the universe controls your decisions and actions. That you “just so happened” to be somewhere. It’s a fucking coincidence. Get over it. Your souls aren’t bonded to one another.

I haven't always thought this way. I dreamed of a prince, saving me, the damsel in distress, from a life controlled by her mother. I dreamed that Romeo would climb up my window and whisper nothings of love into my ears as I drifted to sleep, praying that I won’t dream of my murderous father. I dreamt of walking down a rose-petaled aisle, witnessing my true love just waiting for me to come to him and say I do. But life has a funny way of fulfilling dreams. From becoming the perfect girl-next door-cheerleader-scholar to being the daughter of a serial killer and a cult member, my life pushed all hope of love away. From rejected crushes to losing best friends, I lost all signs of love in my life. I do everything, for everyone, to be perfect, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough. 

Granted, my life circumstances have changed for the better when moving to New York, but my mindset on love remains. It doesn’t exist. 

But today, started off pretty shitty.

 

_ Elizabeth Cooper. My Life is a Mess.  _

 

——

 

“Ronnie! Come on! We’re gonna be late!” 

“Ok no. Don’t blame me. It’s Archie.” Veronica struts into the kitchen with her 5-inch heels and a black cocktail dress with silk detailing. Betty, Veronica and Archie are all heading to their friends Cheryl and Toni's engagement party. Betty is wearing a light pink dress, with lace sleeves and an open back. Her skirt is ruffled and has a cute little bow. She looks stunning but she's been ready for 15 minutes and her best friends can't seem to get their shit together. Veronica rolls her eyes at Betty's unimpressed expression and shouts to her fiancée. “Archibald Andrews, if you don’t come down in the next 2 minutes, we’re not having sex for a week!”

“Ok, really Veronica? I’m right here. It’s bad enough that I live here with you two, I don’t need to know about your extra-curricular activities in the bedroom.” Betty says as she packs the cupcakes into their portable case.

“Oh shush love-hater. You need to get laid. How long has it been? A year? Two?”

“Ok,  _ my _ sex life has nothing to do with you shouting for all of New York to hear about  _ your _ sex life.” 

Archie comes rushing into the kitchen shirtless and half wet from the shower, trying to yank a white-tee over his fiery red hair. “I’m here! I’m here! Was that 2 minutes?” 

“Yes, but you sure are innocent enough to believe that I would ever do anything like not have sex with you for a week.” Veronica grabs his face and places a wet kiss on his cheek while Archie makes a fist pump into the air and winks at Betty. 

Betty rolls her eyes, “Ok guys really? Tone it down. Last night I had to take a run out of the house because my earphones weren’t loud enough over your moaning.” 

"Guys, we need to go," Archie says, grabbing his house keys from the hook. 

"Oh my god, you're infuriating. We were waiting for you!" 

 

__

 

When I first heard whisperings of the potential espousal of one Choni, I could not help but feel as if the world is against me. I'm ecstatic for them, of course, because I've been friends with them for a decade but that's another set of my friends partnered off and secured while I'm still alone. 

Like I always am. 

Like I always will be.

Archie and Veronica are two idiots about to get married and I'm waiting for them to realise that they've just made the biggest mistake of their lives. Cheryl and Toni have been in love since the moment the red-headed witch laid eyes on the pink-haired Serpent princess, which I don't think can be true at all. But these are my friends and these people make each other happy, so I shut my mouth and pray that it doesn't implode like everything else in my life. 

I don't want to be in love but I don't want to be alone either. I might have a fling once in a while and sex it up a bit but it never sticks. I don't need it to. It's not like I'm waiting for a man to come to my rescue but it's not like I'm not waiting either. 

I put a strict non-love rule on my life when my father drank too much one night. My mother and father screamed their lungs out and I was convinced that there was no love left. I reinforced this rule when my mother found out my father was a murderer. Watching as my mother crumpled to the ground, shaking and screaming in fear and regret as they take him away in a body bag, realising he wasn't the man she thought she married, that she married a monster. I continued this rule as my own mother slipped away, choosing a new family and joining my sister on a farm of lunatics. My boyfriend at the time broke up with me because I was "related to a bunch of psychopaths" and I graduated valedictorian with not one member of my family in the crowd. Love separates people. It's better to cut it off. 

Veronica and Archie are all I have left and I'm not about to ruin that by telling them that love is a trap. They'll figure that out on their own. 

Hopefully not. 

Don't tell them. 

__

 

The weather is a perfect Spring day. Clear skies, Sun beaming through the fluffy white clouds as they walk out of their apartment building. Archie whistles for a cab and Veronica perches herself onto the bench next to the park. 

"Of course Cheryl has to get engaged right after me. She always loved stealing attention." Veronica says after a moment.

"Getting engaged isn't about attention. It's about committing to someone for the rest of your lives, only to hate each other by the time you're 50."

"B, we have got find you someone who's going to change that state of mind." Veronica taps Betty's head. "Is there something wrong up there? There's no way you can believe that love doesn't exist." She teases,

"Yeah, cause I don't have enough self-esteem problems. Oh, let's just tell Betty there might be something wrong with her!" Betty says with her voice drenched in sarcasm.

"You know I love you more than life and mean nothing by it. You have to dig deep and find it in your heart to be able to fall in love with someone. Or even something! Find something that you love to do before you search for someone you may be able to fall in love with."

"Guys, sorry to break up with really deep convo but the cab's coming this way," Archie says, 

Veronica opens the back door and slides in as well as Archie. Betty gets into the front seat and ponders on Veronica's advice.

"Central Park please." 

 

__ 

 

What do I love?  Writing. I know that. But I'm not IN love with it and that's my point. So what am I IN love with?...nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

I can not attach myself to something with the risk of having it ripped away from me. I forbid to fall in love. 

I have too many walls up barricading my heart from any potential suitors that may await me, any dreamy man that might fall into my arms or think of themselves as worthy. My heart is under lock and key and I don't plan on giving it away anytime soon. I can't risk heartbreak.

The idea of finding your “one true love” or your “soulmate” is not real. No. Not like the movies or books. It’s hard. As time lives on, all the evidence pointing towards “true love” is vanishing. No love in sight.  So how, in this modern world, can I really look forward to loving when it isn’t real? How am I supposed to look forward to finding that one person that will walk me back down the aisle, when nobody has the intention of doing so? It’s tragic really, that all this could happen only for it to snatched away by some weird twist of fate. Maybe love is finite. Maybe it’s only given to those who are truly worthy of using it right. Maybe that love is only given to those who will truly cherish it. Maybe the others are set up for failure. Maybe  _ I'm _ set up for failure. 

 

Sorry, Veronica. I'm going to have to pass on love.

__

 

Cheryl and Toni's party is located at the Loeb Boathouse, decked out with decorations and a bunch of red-heads from the Blossom Empire. They are all standing as if choreographed to. They all look as if they are robots, programmed to be put together, without a dent in their facades. Their eyes flicker at once, checking the door for the impending arrival of the two ladies that they've gathered for. Some of Toni's ex-gang member friends are all huddled around the entrance, feeling out of place with their black outfits contrasting to a sea of red. 

"Didn't they just get engaged?" Archie says, peering into the boathouse, while they wait to get escorted. 

"Yeah. But that's what happens when your family are criminals and have a shit-ton of money." 

"Cool. Can we do this?" Archie says with a shit-eating grin which earns him a smack on the head. 

An employee working the event directs them to a table and they sit. "Ms Blossom and Ms Topaz will arrive shortly. Please help yourself to hor d'oeuvres." They nod in thanks and Betty heads straight for the wine. 

"And I thought Cheryl Bombshell couldn't get any more extra,"  Veronica says, already checking her lipstick with her Chanel compact mirror that Betty didn't even know she owned or existed. 

"Could you shut up? We're here for her engagement. Sorry you have a vendetta against her but I just want to be here for an hour then leave so I can go back to writing my blogs. Where I belong." Betty says and proceeds to down her whole glass of Montoya Cabernet. "Fuck, this is good," she mutters. 

"What has gotten into you today B?" 

"Look, we all know I don't fuck with love and I think this is a big waste of my time. There's no love. Why would you put yourself through getting married?" Betty says, with a humourless laugh. "This is fucking stupid." 

"I think that wine took a really fast effect and I think you should take a walk. Clear your head." Veronica says bitterly and gets up. "Come back when you fix your attitude." And with a flick of her perfectly sculpted hair, she's off in the direction of the gang members, bound to make trouble. 

"Yeah! Leave! Everybody else does." Betty gets up but is stopped by Archie's grasp. 

"Betty. We're happy. I'm sorry you're not, but please stop rubbing off your negativity to us."

"Noted." Betty walks out of the boathouse with the peeking eyes of red-headed demons. 

 

__

  
  


This is fucking stupid. So yeah. My hatred towards love may be getting a bit intense but I don't even care. My life is a mess and nobody else's is. They're not unemployed and alone. They're not damaged. They don't hate themselves. They don't get it. Their lives have been all handy dandy while I was drowning in my own tub, waiting for death to take me. While I was digging my nails into my palms, crying, waiting for the pain to overtake me and make me finally feel relief. Finally, feel something. Anything. 

Yeah, so maybe life hasn't changed all that much when I moved to New York. Maybe I'm broken. Maybe that's why I can't love anyone. 

 

__

 

She's filled with rage and she's a little tipsy but she has to get out. Get out of the park. Get out of New York. Get out of life. Maybe everyone's right. Maybe life's not life without love. How does she live in a world full of problems and expect to not have them of her own? She’s grown up with her fair share of angst. Hurdles of despair and sadness, over and over. Did she deserve this? Did she do something? She doesn’t understand…She doesn’t…know. She doesn’t know how to move on. She’s stuck. Lost. Lost in a world that’s screaming with directions, one way or another; being pushed and pulled with no way of stopping. She tries. She really does. She tries to stand tall and stand confident within herself but one thing after another knocks her back down. She’s drowning in the deep, trying and trying to swim to the shore or, at least, get her feet on the sand. 

But the waves keep getting taller and she’s forgotten how to swim; it’s colder and darker and she’s drowning. It’s too deep, it’s too dark and it’s too hard to try.

She just…doesn’t know. Where does she go from here? 

Her life, it’s been a particular kind of bitch. Life is just so persistent to make you hate everything that it doesn’t back down. 

She tries. She fucking tries but it’s never good enough. Not just for others but for herself. She can’t find it within herself to feel as if she’s good enough. She’s fucking lost. And if she’s not screaming her lungs out? People don’t notice. She can’t breathe. Her voice is tired. She’s…tired. She’s expected things upon things upon things but **SHE IS TIRED**. She feels as if she needs a life rope. Because although she can’t swim, she can try to tread water. She needs to be pulled up to the surface so that she can at least breathe. Maybe one day she can get ahold of a floaty and maybe she’ll finally be pulled out of the deep. But not yet. She’s still drowning and struggling. People are assholes but it’s her own self bringing her down. How can she love someone else if she can’t even love herself?

Betty makes her way out of the boathouse and walks along the tree-lined pavement. She walks towards the road and takes a breath. "I'll be okay. I always am."

She makes it to the crossing and doesn't even realise her palms are covered in blood. Her ears block out all the sound and white noise as she keeps walking across the road and completely misses the car coming towards her. She looks but the car's too close. It's too late. 

All of a sudden she gets pulled by her dress to the sidewalk and she's okay. "Hey. Hey. Are you okay?" someone asks,

Betty's vision is foggy and her head is spinning from her panic attack. She can feel someone's hands on her forearms chanting  _ are you okay? _ like a mantra. The stranger pulls her by her arms and sits her down on a bench. 

"Hey." The voice is husky and soft. The sound of the voice is like music. A perfect rhythm. Like the sound of the waves crashing on the shore. It sounds concerned. Why is it concerned? Betty looks up only to be swallowed by a sea of blue. "Are you okay?" A man. It's a man. With ocean eyes and a soft voice. Betty blinks her eyes and shakes her head to snap out of her daze. "Um, yeah. Sorry." 

She finally gets a good look at the man. His hair is inky black but only to be surrounded by a grey knit beanie shaped like a crown. It makes her smile. His nose is a perfect patrician nose and his lips look like rosebuds. He nibbles on it and it leaves a red trail making them look even softer. Every so often his lips turn up and she can see his little dimples. His hat is paired with his rugged jeans and flannel sweater. His t-shirt, stretching across his broadened chest. He's not built like Archie but he seems tall and lean. 

He chuckles nervously and covers it with a cough and she realises she's been staring. "Um," She looks into his eyes again and he smiles. "I'm Jughead. You seem a little dazed. I guess you didn't see the cab coming towards you but you weren't too far from the curb so I just kinda grabbed you. Sorry if I, uh, pulled too hard."

"No, no you were great. Thank you so much. I owe you one. I'm, uh, Betty. Nice to, meet you, uh, Jug-head." Jughead drops his hands from her wrists after holding them for a smidgen too long. He looks into her eyes and then to her lips and then back up to her eyes. 

He chuckles and rubs the back of his neck "Yeah, it's a nickname. My real name is way worse so,"

The beeping of the cars seems swallowed by his voice and his presence. "Do you mind if we-ah- take a walk? You know, if you don't have somewhere you need to be. I figured I shouldn't be alone right now considering I almost died."

"Yeah sure, just came down to Central Park to clear my head. It's probably better if I have company anyway."

They start walking back into the park and walk down the tree-lined pathway. The birds are chirping and the park is beautiful but she can not seem to take her eyes off him. He chuckles "Maybe you should take a picture. It might last longer."

"Oh my god, I'm such an idiot.” 

Jughead chuckles and shakes his head. He peers over to the blonde next to him. 

"Um, so where are you from?" Betty asks, trying desperately to shake this strange feeling from her brain. 

They sit amongst the grass and Jughead leans back against his arms and spreads his legs out. Betty can't help but notice his shirt ride up his body and a small trail of dark hair peeking out. Her cheeks flush and she looks up at him only for him to be looking at her like he's reading her thoughts.  

"Well, I was born in a small upstate town in New York. I, ah, ran away from home at 13. So, I really don't have a home. I mean, I'm not homeless  _ now  _ but I guess I don't really come from Riverdale."

"Wait, Riverdale?! Oh my god, I'm from Riverdale!" 

"No shit really? Well, it must be fate."

Fate. There's that word again. No. That's- No. It's not real. This is just a coincidence. There's no way this was fate...Right? Right. It's not real

...Right? 

"Ha, yeah I don't really believe in that."

Jughead looks at Betty inquisitively, "What? Fate?" 

Betty chuckles and looks over her shoulder. "Yeah. When you've lived a life like mine, fate and love, they tend to slip away from your clutches, leaving you with false hope." 

"What happened? If you don't mind me asking..."

Betty laughs a humourless chuckle "It's really not something I go into with someone I just met."

"I mean, hey, we've got time. I'm not going anywhere and I'm all ears."

  
  
tbc 


	2. Coincidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It really is a long and depressing story Jughead. It’s...hard to talk about.”
> 
> She wants him to look into her eyes and see all that she’s trying to say.
> 
> I want you to know. I feel something. Can you feel it too?
> 
> She wants him to see that she’s struggling. She wants him to look deep within her soul and see how broken and damaged she truly is and if he wants to start something, that he should just run while he can. She wants to tell him to get up and leave, to detach himself from a walking disaster before getting associated with her.
> 
> She wants him to read her mind.
> 
> Please. You seem like a good person. I don't want to hurt you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiii! Okay, so...I'm back with a new chapter...I got this one out quicker than expected and I actually wrote more than this but I thought that maybe I'd start Chapter 3. I needed to end at one point and I just kept writing and writing...Anyways. It's not really a cliffhanger per se, it's just a freaky coincidence. But she's been getting a lot of those today ;) 
> 
> I hope you likeeeee :)
> 
> Give me some kudos. 
> 
> I wanna feel loved.

I wanted to tell him my story. I really did. He captured my attention in a way guys never have before. I wanted to be able to extend an olive branch to another person in my life but I just can’t. I’ve never had to tell my whole story out loud before. Everyone around me already knew about my parents and my sibling. They already knew about the murder that shook my whole town when I was 16. They already knew that the serial killer of the town turned out to be my own flesh and blood. They already knew that my mother and sister joined a cult. 

What they don’t know, is what haunts me the most. The dead brother, replaced by an intruder who sexually abused me and got me pregnant. That I had an abortion and got disowned by my already distant family. Most of my friends abandoned me when I needed them the most. That I hurt myself every day, just to feel a little bit of what I thought I deserved. 

“We accept the love we think we deserve,” my mother used to tell me. She said she got it from a book. I think about it a lot now. 

I  _ think _ I deserve nothing. That’s why I  _ get _ nothing. 

That’s why I  _ want _ nothing. 

I wanted to tell him. I really did. But how do I explain that I still don’t know what to do even when my friends came back. Even when I moved to the city. Even when I’m surrounded by people who want to help me. I’m just a lost cause. 

 

___

 

“It really is a long and depressing story Jughead. It’s...hard to talk about.”

She wants him to look into her eyes and see all that she’s trying to say.

_ I want you to know. I feel something. Can you feel it too?  _

She wants him to see that she’s struggling. She wants him to look deep within her soul and see how broken and damaged she truly is and if he wants to start something, that he should just run while he can. She wants to tell him to get up and leave, to detach himself from a walking disaster before getting associated with her. 

She wants him to read her mind. 

_ Please. You seem like a good person. I don't want to hurt you.  _

"I- I'm- Let's just say that I got dealt the wrong set of cards."

He looks up at her. Really looks at her and nods, "I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. How about I tell you a little bit about my tragic backstory? I told you I ran away from Riverdale but I didn't tell you why."

"And you don't have to. I mean," she scratches her lip and chuckles before continuing, "you don't really know me either right?" She scrunches up her face and blocks the sun from her face. She observes the glow of the midday sun, filtering through the blowing trees as Jughead sits and ponders for a few moments before taking a deep breath.

"I told you I came to Central Park to think. To clear my head. It's because I just got a call that my dad is sick. My dad is the reason I left Riverdale in the first place." He quickly counters that with: "I probably shouldn't tell you what I'm about to tell you because I barely know you, but I just have to get it all out." 

Betty reaches for Jughead's arm and shifts so she's facing him completely. She could feel the warmth of his skin from under his clothes. It felt electric. "It’s okay go ahead. I'm so sorry. Is he okay?"

"I don't know. They want me to go see him but I haven't seen him in 11 years. " 

She ponders for a moment.  _ 11 years.  _ She wants to know why he left, but she doesn’t want him to feel obligated to speak about his life with her when she can’t even utter a few words about her own. So, albeit hesitantly, she asks, "Why'd you leave?" 

Jughead takes a deep breath, takes his beanie off and runs his hand through his silky, black hair. Betty can see that this is hard for him and she wants him to know he doesn't have to talk about it but he offered to tell her so she shuffles across the grass where they're only a few feet away from each other. She hopes it provides him with the comfort to continue and when she looks into his eyes again, she can see it has. 

"My father is not a good person. I was raised around a motorcycle gang and he was an alcoholic. My mother couldn't take my father's ongoing roller coaster of sober and not sober, so she took my little sister to our grandparents in Toledo. I got abandoned. My father got even worse and didn't look after me the way a father should. When he was home, he would abuse me and tell me it was all my fault. When he wasn't, I was scavenging for any food I could find. I couldn't take that anymore. So I ran away." 

Betty is on the verge of tears. She hasn't known this man for very long but she can already see what a good man he is, even after everything. "Did it get better after that?"

Jughead laughs humorlessly "No. No. Not at all. It got worse."

"I'm so sorry."

"No. Don't apologise for something you didn't do." He reaches for her hands and strokes them with his thumbs. "I tried to get to my mother. I tried to find her but she didn't want to be found. She didn't want  _ me _ to find her. So I got on the next bus out to New York City. I was homeless, living with the rats and eating stolen food. I would sleep on park benches and I would sneak into hotel lobbies and try to rest on their sofas. I was homeless for a year before this a kind woman found me and brought me to this group home for youth. I got put with all these kids that went through similar situations that I went through. A few of them are my good friends now." 

A tear slips down Betty's face and she lets go of Jughead's hands to wipe her face. Jughead smiles and takes another breath. "While I was there, I did odd jobs and earned money and when they had to let me go when I was 18, I had enough money to do online classes. I ended up bunking with my three friends I met at the youth home Kevin, Fangs and Sweet-Pea. They all saved up to start renting a place. I studied English literature and I ended up writing a book. I got it published. It wasn't great like  _ New York Times Bestselling Author _ great but it got some attention and I got a significant amount of money. I bought an apartment and I go to college now."  
  


“Oh my god, Jughead that’s- wow.” 

“Tragic? Yeah.” Jughead scratches the back of his neck and chuckles. “So, I don’t know if I should go back.” 

How can this man, this beautiful man, pour out his soul to her and still put a smile on his face? How does he have the motivation to get up in the morning knowing he doesn't have anyone he can go home to. She doesn’t get it. She lives every day as she can but she still struggles to smile. She'll try. She'll do it the old Alice Cooper way.  _ Smile Elizabeth _ , she'd say,  _ people won't think you’re happy otherwise _ . But behind closed doors, she basks in her sadness and tries tirelessly to find some sort of lifeboat. Her heart aches with sadness for this poor man who has been to hell back and is still one of the nicest people she has ever met. “Jughead. You’ve suffered so many traumas and you’re still this kind man who saved me from impending death." 

Jughead laughs, "Hey, anyone would've done it." 

"No, they would've. People don't have time to save the damsel in distress." Betty smiles sadly, "I think you should do what your heart tells you. I haven't known you for very long but I can already tell you, you are the most authentic person I have ever met. If you have room to open up your heart to your father once more, I think you should do it. Go. See if he's changed and if he hasn't, you can tell him that he has to go through me to get you back. And I'll give him hell for hurting you." Jughead laughs and looks into Betty's eyes. Betty chuckles. She hasn't smiled this much in...well she doesn't know how long. 

They stare at each other for a few minutes with small smiles on their faces. And that’s when she realises his story is just as tragic as hers. Maybe that’s why they are such kindred spirits. A broken boy and a broken girl. She wonders if he is as lost in her as she is in him. "Did you have any friends back in Riverdale?" she says, trying, though failing, to shake off this weird feeling. 

Jughead smiles wider and reminisces quietly before speaking, "Yeah I had a couple. Uh, Archie...Andrews. He was my best friend. Nobody really knew. He saw me sleeping in Pickens Park and we became two unlikely friends."

Ok. This is getting freaky now. There's no  _ fucking _ way. "Oh my god! He's my roommate with his  fiancée Veronica! We're best friends." 

"No shit! Really? Uh, maybe you know Toni...Topaz? She was my neighbour and a really good friend." 

"Yeah! I'm actually...." She feels the wind against her face and hears to children laugh in the background and she’s suddenly reminded of where she needs to be. She checks her watch. Cheryl and Toni would be there by now and she's an hour late now. She stands up in panic, “Shit. I need to go.” 

Jughead snaps out of his daze and shakes his head in confusion as he follows her and stands up. "W-wait where do you need to be?" 

"Toni, coincidently, just got engaged and I'm going to her party and I ran out after having an argument with Veronica,  Archie's  fiancée . I kind of insinuated that getting engaged was stupid. And she's engaged as well so I hurt her feelings and I'm a shitty friend." She doesn't know what to do from here. She wants to keep talking to him and yes, he knows Toni but would it be inappropriate to invite him to her engagement party even when they hadn't seen each other in over a decade? Either way, she doesn't have time to think before she's up and walking. 

Evidently, Jughead shows no sign of that same train of thought and just follows hot on her heels "Well, maybe I could get your number or something and we can get coffee. I kinda wanna see you again." Jughead chuckles nervously.

Betty stops walking and turns to look at him. He comes to a halt and she smiles at him. Whatever this is or whatever it could be, she should take it. Most of her life has been filled with grief and sorrow and maybe this once, she can take this good thing for herself. "Yeah. I'll give you my number."   
  


___

 

I met this guy. 

He was ridiculously cute and funny. But I'm not telling you cause I just have a crush or whatever. I'm telling you because I felt something I've never felt before. Little things would happen and I'd think differently to how I normally do. Normally I am rational, but I felt myself drifting off into a place of what  _ could _ happen. A place of dreams or of wishful thinking. That maybe life won't screw me over this time. 

I know. This is insane. I literally just told you I don't believe in fate or love. And I'm in no way saying it is, but maybe life is giving me something good for once. 

His hair was floppy and adorable. I secretly wondered what it would feel like to run my hands through it. His eyes were blue. But not  _ just _ blue. No. I could spend hours trying to pinpoint the exact shade of blue it was. He was sweet.  _ Too _ sweet. Like he's too good to be true. But he is true. He is real, 

And I've known him for an hour. 

Look, I'm only human. I can be physically attracted to a guy without wanting to fall in love with him. That's the case with me always. 

But I swear I felt something  _ else _ .

He talked to me about his life and he shared his story with me. How he comes from  _ my _ town and ran away at a young age. 

It was a crazy coincidence. 

That’s been happening a lot today.  _ Coincidences.  _ Whatever God is laughing at me from above, I hope they’re having a great time. 

He shared all his heartache with me because I said that I couldn't articulate how to share mine. He stroked his thumbs over my hands with such care, as if, if he were to drop them, they would break. He spoke with such intelligence that it was unbelievable that he didn't get a proper high-school education. Sometimes I'd zone out to what he was saying and just look at his lips and the way his mouth twitched when he talked, creating the cutest little dimples. 

I still don’t believe in love. But maybe it exists. 

Or maybe it’s just dormant. 

 

_ Elizabeth Cooper. My Life is a Mess _

 

___

 

Betty rushes back into the boathouse to find the party in full swing. It's filled to the brim with people and the two ladies of the hour are flittering around talking to guests of all walks of life. From dark gang members to bitching red-heads to New York businessmen and women. It really was a strange bunch of people gathered all in one room. Betty spots Archie who is looking disapprovingly at Reggie Mantle who is straight up flirting with Veronica. She walks over to them, "Hey guys." 

"Hey B, I'm sorry I snapped at you. I was-"

"No. No, you were right. I'm sorry I was such a bitch. I'm so excited that you guys are getting married. You two deserve the whole world and I'm sorry I said anything but that." If anyone deserves a happy ending, it really is Veronica and Archie. They, too, witnessed all the Jason Blossom madness, Archie experienced her father's wrath firsthand and Veronica was the only one who knew about Betty's short-lived pregnancy. They were in the thick of all of Betty's drama and she would not have been able to come out the other side without them. Betty gives Veronica a firm hug and turns to Reggie.

"Don't you have someone  _ available _ to flirt with Reg?" She taunts and punches him playfully in the shoulder. She had met Reggie in college, as did the rest of the gang. Reggie played football with Archie and often came over to their apartment to play video games. All-around, he isn't a bad guy. Just a bit of a douche. And is definitely in love with Veronica. 

(Archie is starting to realise it's not as much of a joke as he initially thought it was. Veronica loves the attention but knows no-one but the ginger-haired boy is for her.) 

"Hey, if there's any chance at all that I can be Veronica's side piece, I'll take it." Reggie winks at Veronica and Archie is one second away from punching him in the face. Veronica drags Archie away to mingle with other guests. 

Betty looks back at Reggie, "Reggie, you're worth a lot more than just a side piece."

"Do you want some of this B Coop?" Reggie flexes and Betty would rather throw up than be with him. He may be what the modern population would call a "good looking" guy but she wasn't interested in someone with half a brain. She may not believe in falling in love, but she has to at least like a guy before jumping into bed with them. 

Betty's previous "relationships" have all been the same. A cute, brainy boy who preferably doesn't know about her excessive amount of baggage. He was never bulky or have a six-pack, but he could always crack a mean punch if he had to. There's only ever been three guys, but they're all the same. "Oh, no. Douchey footballers are  _ not _ my type. Why do you think I never got with Archie before Veronica came along?" 

"Touché."

"I'm gonna go say congrats to the ladies. I'll be back soon. Don't flirt with Veronica while I'm gone.”  Betty strides over to where Toni is located across the boathouse. She is accompanied by one of her ex-gang member friends who she did not know, and one of their friends, Josie McCoy. Veronica and Archie come and walk next to her and Veronica takes her arm and stops her before they reach the group. "Hey, are you okay? You seem a little dazed." 

"Yeah, the weirdest thing happened when I left. I-"

"Betty!! Hey girl! I'm glad you could make it." Toni says with complete sarcasm as she walks up to them with Josie and the tall gang member following behind. "Hey T." Betty casts a fond smile over to Toni, "Sorry I'm late." 

"No worries girl. I'm joking." Toni winks and comes closer to Betty, "Seriously though, I'm glad you're here" She whispers, as she embraces Betty in a firm hug. Although they'd known each other for years, Toni and Betty became unlikely friends when finding themselves in the same journalism class at NYU. They bonded over their lack of familial support and that, although they didn't look similar, had more in common than one would think, like movie and music taste. Betty took a little longer to take a liking to Cheryl, who was the bitchy mean girl in high school and dictated everything she did regardless of the fact that her brother, Jason, died. Cheryl finally stepped up into her (3rd) cousin role and now acts more like a sister than Polly ever did. Everyone seems to have changed in New York whereas, in Riverdale, people are forced to become the worst versions of themselves. 

"I wouldn't miss this for the world." Toni smiles and turns to Veronica and Archie who then start to mingle with her. Betty turns to Josie and gives her a hug.  "Hey, how are you, Josie?"

Josie is a jazz-pop artist trying to make it big. She makes heads turn with her angelic voice and vest for life. She's talented and driven and Betty thinks there's nothing she couldn't achieve if she put her mind to it. Josie is strong like that. 

Betty wishes she was like that.  

"Oh you know, just getting by. Just went down to LA for a few weeks. I'm glad to be back and see everyone." 

"Yeah. Everything's a bit hectic now that there are two engagements but we should catch up so we talk about LA and everything you're doing. I'd love to hear more about it and not in a setting with hundreds of people." Josie and Betty schedule a time and place to meet and she finally turns to address the tall man accompanying Josie. "Hi, I'm Betty!" She takes out her hand and gives him in a strong handshake. 

"Sweet Pea. Nice to meet you. "   
  
  
  
tbc 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's a tad short...I have to get everyone's backstory in before we get to the lovey-dovey stuff :)
> 
> Also, Hi Sweet Pea is here and creating more freaky coincidences.
> 
> I will also go more in-depth with Betty’s sad backstory in the next few chapters. We just skimmed the service. Poor Betts...I’m putting her through hell but I swear it’ll be all good in the end :)


	3. Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s like the world wanted Jughead and I to meet. If not for Jughead’s father being an abusive alcoholic, maybe Jughead would’ve stayed in Riverdale and maybe he and I could’ve crossed paths at one point. Maybe we would’ve dated and maybe we would still be together. But because he ran away, those series of events didn’t happen so now, we have a new series of events. I met Jughead because he saved my life, I had a conversation with him, I gave him my number. I felt a force. Something that pushed me towards him, telling me to listen to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are with another chapter! Sorry, I took an extra week. I'm planning on uploading once every week but you know...I've been busy at work! This is probably one of my fav chaps so far. It addresses Betty's story and if you noticed, I went back to chapter one and tweaked a few little things to make everything add up a bit more. I changed the narrative of what happened to her father, so the first chapter is a bit different...This is kinda sad and addresses some heavy topics. Rape and Abortion among things. If this is a trigger for you, I advise you not to read the second half. It doesn't do IN-DEPTH per se, I'd just rather you be cautious. But poor Betts. I feel like I finally know what direction this fic is going into so expect the chapter to be a bit more like this one. ALSO, DID YOU ENJOY THE RIVERDALE EP TODAY? I SURE DID :) Anyways...leave comments. Like and subscribe blah blah blah.

**Fate**

/feɪt/

_ noun _

  1. the development of events outside a person's control, regarded as predetermined by a supernatural power.
  2. _"fate decided his course for him"_



_ “Fate shuffles the cards and we play.” _

Fate often corresponds with coincidence. They walk hand in hand or run parallel on a train track. A coincidence is the occurrence of events that happen at the same time unintentionally, but seem to have some connection whereas fate is like a greater power determining all events, so that you can’t change or control the way things will happen. It’s funny. I thought they were the same because they both seem to reflect like a supernatural facade. But, now, I’ve learnt that they’re not.

Coincidences have stimulated curiosity and interest in the public for decades. Sometimes, everything seems to synchronize inexplicably, so that two seemingly unrelated circumstances correspond. As a result, people have always associated these chance occurrences with a “higher power,” making us wonder if they are coincidence or fate.  As specified by the “father of medicine”  and a Greek physician, Hippocrates, all components of the universe are linked by “hidden affinities.” In other words, he believed there are laws that explain everything but we just don’t know them yet.

Arthur Schopenhauer, a well-known German philosopher, thought something similar: “the destiny of one individual will invariably adjust to the destiny of another, and each one is the protagonist of their own drama, while simultaneously playing a role in the other’s drama. This is something that exceeds our ability to comprehend.” Meaning, one person’s destiny counteracts another person's, changing their fate and path for the future.

It’s a hard concept to grasp so it’s easier to just put them in the same box. But,  _ why _ would all these things happen? From Jughead, who comes from  _ my _ town, saving me in front of a car, to him knowing both Toni and Archie, to Sweet Pea, Jughead’s best friend, being at the very same party as me. This can’t just be a coincidence. It’s like the world wanted Jughead and I to meet. If not for Jughead’s father being an abusive alcoholic, maybe Jughead would’ve stayed in Riverdale and maybe he and I could’ve crossed paths at one point. Maybe we would’ve dated and maybe we would still be together. But because he ran away, those series of events didn’t happen so now, we have a  _ new _ series of events. I met Jughead because he saved my life, I had a conversation with him, I gave him my number. I felt a force. Something that pushed me towards him, telling me to listen to him.

It’s unexplainable. But I think maybe it’s not a coincidence. Maybe it was fate.

_ Maybe. _

_ Possibly. _

_ Probably. _

_ I don’t know. _

___

 

Sweet Pea. Surely this is the same one Jughead was literally  _ just  _ talking about. Betty hasn’t come across many “Sweet Pea’s” in her life.

Josie continued talking,  "Sweet Pea's my boyfriend. We've been dating for a few months and he's coincidently Toni's friend from her new gang." She turns and playfully glares at him, "He didn't tell me he was gonna be here." Sweet Pea shakes his head and pulls Josie’s back into his front and hugs her from behind. “Sorry babe.” He kisses her head.

Betty shakes her head and breaks herself from her reverie, "Sorry did you say Sweet Pea?"

"Yeah." He begins with a laugh, "Nickname. Always has been. Always will be. Beats my real name."

_ What is it with nicknames today? _

"No, no I mean-" Betty exhales. She shakes her head and laughs at the  absurdity of it all. "I just met someone, and he talked about you. I’m guessing because I doubt there are many Sweet Pea’s around.” She finishes with a laugh.

Sweet Pea looks at her curiously and chuckles. “Who?”

Betty smiles when she reminisces about the past hour and bites her lip. “Uh, Jughead." Archie and Toni turn to Betty with their interests piqued. Sweet Pea looks at Betty with a confused expression. “Uh, yeah. Jones?”

Toni speaks before Betty can answer, "Shit. Jughead Jones? How did you bump into him? Is he ok? Oh my god."

Betty looks around at the group uncertainty. He never actually told her his last name but she figured that Jughead was also a pretty rare name, "Yeah I guess, he didn't tell me his last name. Um, I was having a panic attack," Betty trails off as Veronica squeezes her arm in sympathy, “and he saved me before a car came and almost killed me. I wasn't paying attention."

“Shit B, Are you okay?” Veronica says in concern,

“Yeah, yeah I was fine but I probably would’ve died if it wasn’t for Jughead.” Betty smiles and looks at Veronica’s suspicious look.

Archie speaks next, "Yeah, that sounds like him. Thinking of others before himself. Seems as if that hasn't changed in the last 11 years. I remember him always taking care of his sister. We used to get Pop to make us like a crap-ton of food to take home for them because he rarely got any. I haven’t heard from him in ages. I kinda figured he didn’t survive." Archie looks at the floor sadly and Veronica rubs her hand up his back.

"Yeah, he went out on his own. I thought he would’ve died out here.” Toni says

“How did you know him, Archie?" Sweet Pea inquires,

"We-" Betty cuts in, "They met when Jughead was sleeping in the park."

"B how long did you talk to him for?"

"Like an hour. We sat and talked and once I found out he came from Riverdale, he told me his whole story. He asked if I was okay and I insinuated that I've never really been okay. He asked what happened, I couldn't answer, so he told me his story instead. He was," Betty smiles and Veronica and Archie exchange a look "kind and maybe one of the nicest people I have ever met." She turns to Sweet Pea, "He said he met you at a group home for youth."

Sweet Pea nods, "He's one of my best buds. I've known him 8 years now. We both grew up with drunk dads and absent mothers so," He chuckles sadly, "I guess we bonded over that."

"He's such a good person. After everything, he's been through. I wish I was more like him."

"Did you say you talked for an hour?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Jughead doesn't really talk to people. He kinda closed off and stand-offish. But, you're definitely his type so," Sweet Pea finishes with a smirk, "I'm so gonna pick him up on this.”

“I’m his...type?” Betty says with a disbelieving smile,

“I'm seriously surprised he told you his story. He didn't even speak, for the first year in The Brothers. We all thought he was mute." Sweet Pea continues.

"B, are you...blushing?" Veronica points out with a laugh,

"What? No?! I-I'm not." Betty touches her face with her hands and hides her smile with her palms.

“Do you like him?” Veronica practically shrieks and everyone bursts into laughter at her enthusiasm.

“Okay and this is where I walk away. I’m gonna go talk to Cheryl.” Betty turns with a red face and runs from the group in the direction of Cheryl.

She arrives at Cheryl’s table as the subject herself picks up a  maraschino  cherry and pops it with her teeth. She’s sitting alone and indulging in a plate of sweets. Betty looks down to her with a concerning smile, “Hey Cher, you okay? Why are you sitting alone?”

“Betty!?” Cheryl jumps from her sit and embraces Betty in a firm hug. Betty notices a slight vulnerability in Cheryl and observes her for a moment. Cheryl has always been the life of the party, creating chaos in everything she passes leaving destruction in its wake. She’s always had a strong head on her shoulders and never shows a sense of weakness unless in the  embosom of her precious soon-to-be wife. Sensing a weird shift in her mood, Betty sits Cheryl down on the chair grabs her hands. She crouches down and smiles up at Cheryl. “What’s wrong girl? You’re not regretting getting engaged are you?”

“What? God no. Are you insane? Toni is lucky to be marrying me.”

Betty chuckles and nods, “Okay, so what’s wrong?”

“I-I’m just really glad you’re here.” Tears begin to form in Cheryl’s eyes and Betty looks at Cheryl inquisitively. She’s only ever seen Cheryl cry at Jason’s funeral and even then, it was rare.

“Cheryl, I’m scared. What’s wrong? You never cry.”

“I-I just…you’re my family Betty. I don’t have anyone who truly loves me…that I’m related to. I know Tee Tee loves me but I’m so grateful for you.”

“I love you Cheryl but where’s this coming from?”

“Look, I know my mother is basically the devil incarnate but,” she exhales in defeat, “I sent her an invite for…this.” She gestures to the party and writhes her hands together. “I was kind of hoping that the only left person in my immediate family would come. She, obviously, didn’t and I’m not even mad. I’m kind of glad she’s not here but I just feel so...abandoned. I have no one. ”

“Cheryl, look how many people are here for you.” Betty looks around at the guests and stands Cheryl up to give her another hug.

Cheryl wipes her tears angrily and states firmly, “These are all my father’s old associates. A Blossom party is good for publicity. The Serpents and Pretty Poisons are Toni’s friends and what? Veronica? Archie? Josie?” She scoffs, “Reggie?”

Betty nods, still very concerned “You might not feel it, but we’d be here for you in a heartbeat.”

“We’d? Veronica  _ hates  _ me. Archie’s here for Veronica. Josie has her own life and she’s in LA half the time and Reggie? I don’t even know what the fuck he’s doing here. No one’s here for me Betty. I only have you.” Cheryl finishes in a sob and extracts herself from Betty’s grasp. “You’re my sister. I was scared you weren’t coming either.”

“No C, I’m here. I’ll always be here. I just got into a fight with V. I had to go get air and I got caught up.” Betty says, now crying and hugging Cheryl again.

“Hey babe, are you okay?” Toni comes over and grabs Cheryl's face lovingly. Cheryl collapses into Toni’s embrace and she turns to Betty, “Is she okay?”

“We were just talking about family. She feels like she doesn’t have anyone. I tried to tell her that she does but I get how she feels. You can’t  _ tell _ someone that we’re here. It’s like putting a bandaid on a shark bite. We have to  _ show _ her that we’re here.”

Toni turns back the Cheryl with a nod and kisses her head, “I love you Cherry, I’m here, Betty’s here. We love you and we’re gonna be happy. Ok?” Cheryl looks up at Toni and smiles.

“Thanks, Betty, I’ll go take her to freshen up.”

Betty nods and heads towards the bar to order a drink. The atmosphere is buzzing, plates are spinning and glasses of wine were being poured. Celebration is everywhere, yet the brides are in the bathroom fixing makeup after a breakdown. When Betty looks around she can see smiling faces and happiness radiated off people but all she can think is that this is all a show. Everyone will go home and go on with their routine of life; wake up in the morning, get changed, eat food, go to work, go home or to be with someone and eat again. This party is one event in their day and then they’re back to life. Everyone around her is so in the moment and present, Betty can’t help but think maybe  _ she’s _ the one that’s going about life the wrong way. They’re not thinking about their lives, what they’re gonna do tomorrow or what’s gonna happen when they go home. They’re not in their head and thinking about what’s going to go wrong. Betty’s lived her life preparing for the future. From her mother, expecting perfection, telling her to look a certain way, act a certain way, appear to people as if she’s someone with zero flaws.

Betty can’t remember a time in her life when she was ever in the moment and truly happy. At school, she was hiding behind a mask of perfection, with her friends she was always pretending. Pretending to be happy, for when her two best friends fell in love and left her, isolated her to wallow in her misery alone. To smile and nod, even when she was drowning with the impossible expectation. She thought she had her sister, but when she fell pregnant, her mother made Polly detach herself from all things connected to the Cooper name.

_ It’s bad for our name. We don’t want to be associated with the likes of a pregnant teen with a dead boyfriend. _

Jason’s death was essentially the beginning of the end. The town, falling from its high horse into the dark abyss. It was in Betty’s nature to find out what happened, how it happened and by whom he was shot. So Betty drove herself insane trying to exceed expectations and find out the mystery of the murder. At one point, people were coming to  _ her _ to see how it was going. Not the police, not even her mother who was writing the expose on his death.

Her.

A sixteen-year-old.

Do you know how much pressure that was?

Not only was she expected perfection from her mother, but she was also expected from her town. From her teachers to the nice lady down the street, to Pop Tate. People didn’t even realise they were doing it. Always thanking her for a job well done and saying things like “keep up the good work!” It broke her. She’d resort to crying in her bathroom, tearing her hands into shreds as she suffers through her fourth anxiety attack of the week. Then, she’d have to pick herself up again and smile. She was never told that it was okay to be sad, that it was okay to feel helpless sometimes. It was always perfection, perfection, perfection.

Because according to her mother, sadness showed weakness. And they couldn’t have that, could they?

And then, on that fateful day where she found Jason’s old varsity jacket with the hard drive that showed Clifford Blossom shooting his son, she could breathe a little lighter. That was, until he wound up dead, hanging from his barn, surrounded in drugs.

And another investigation was handed to her. Because their justice system was fucking clueless and the town relied on a sixteen-year-old.

Yeah, cause that makes  _ total _ sense.

So she followed the clues, caught The Sugarman who worked alongside Clifford Blossom in supplying drugs to the town, only to have him shot in his holding cell.

And this is where shit went to...well shit.

The town had a serial killer amongst them. And Betty’s life quickly became the centre of his game.

A sick twisted game which involved cutting all the people she loved out of her life. It pulled the final string in the rope that is love. Cutting the ties from her loved ones was enough to drive back to her mother. While all of this was happening, Polly had moved on from Riverdale, leaving her mother alone after the separation from her husband. Betty finally sat down with her mother and cried. She expressed everything she had bottled up and spilled her pains with her mother. Alice was somewhat surprisingly sympathetic, expressing her own concerns and sharing the pain of her past. She shared her regret with choosing such a difficult life to uphold and her regret of putting her son up for adoption at just 18.

It was the first time in years that she finally understood her mother and hugged her. Saw the fear within her mother and acknowledged her wrongdoings. Betty may not have had her friends, but at that point, she had her mother.

And all she wanted to do was make her happy.

It wasn’t supposed to hurt Betty more.

So while Fred Andrews almost died, her old music teacher got murdered, her classmates Moose and Midge got shot and bodies were dropping by the mysterious “Black Hood,” Betty found her half-brother and brought him to live with them, just to make her mother happy. While it worked, with Alice walking around with the biggest grin Betty’s ever seen her produce, Chic Smith was slowly getting more creepy. Slinking back in the shadows while Betty walks down her hallway in a towel and coming into her room at night assuming she’s sleeping when really, she can feel his presence looming over her.

With all the attention from her mother on Chic and the absence of both her father and sister, Betty tried to reconnect with the friends she once loved. First Veronica, then Archie. Although hesitant, they opened their hearts back up to Betty and she felt a little better. A little lighter.

But because nothing gold can stay, everything went back down to shit. The Black Hood had his final mission, his final sinner, his final request. Chic.

But when she approached him, he already knew. He was listening in to her last phone call and was one step ahead of her. So he pinned her to the side of the hallway and with his rotten breath, breathed down her neck and confessed that he wasn’t really her brother. He pulled her into Polly’s old room, a room with memories of late night gossip sessions and sneaking Pop’s when their mother wasn’t looking, and threw her onto the bed. He climbed on top of her, slap slapped her across the face and whispered, “This won’t hurt at all darling. But in case it does, be quiet. We can’t have mom hear you screaming.” He abused her and violated her and she was helpless under his large body. He murmured things like “You’re so beautiful.” and “I’ve been waiting for you,” and suddenly those words meant nothing. His words, her words, this room, her room, her house. It all meant nothing. Anything she ever loved meant nothing. Her decisions, choices, relationships, all meant nothing.

She didn’t scream, she didn’t move, just like he asked. She prayed for God to come and take her away from this life.

When he finished, he pushed her off his bed and ordered her back to her room with the threat of if she were to ever come to him again, he “...won’t be so gentle next time.”

Black Hood ended up breaking into her house that same night and murdering Chic in cold blood but not before Chic got his hits on him too. But Betty didn’t even care. She sat on her bed, cradling her legs in her arms and staring into nothing while she listened to the pleads of Chic. She still sat as her mother came home and discovered the body of both her husband and her supposed son, dead and drowning in blood. Alice called the police, they confirmed that her father was the masked assailant and that Chic was indeed not her brother. Then, her boyfriend, Trev, broke up with her. Because she wasn't drowning enough. .

Days passed and the town was silent. All talk of murder, banished from the minds of the people. But Betty still sat, staring into space with a sickening pain between her legs.

About 4 weeks later, she got out of her bed, pale and thin and vomited for the first time. It’s like she already knew. He didn’t use protection. She wasn’t on birth control. And it was  _ her  _ life. So she called Veronica.

 

~

_ “B? B? Oh my god. Are you...okay?” _

_ Betty heard her pillow to her chest and closed her eyes. She finally squeaked out, “P-please, j-just keep talking. I’m so alone Veronica. I need you. I’m so scared.” Betty sniffled and she didn’t even realise she was crying until Veronica spoke again. _

_ “I’m coming to your house now. Please hang in there.” _

_ Just as Betty was about to protest, the phone line went dead. _  
  


_ Veronica arrived 10 minutes later, holding chocolates and DVDs of all Betty’s favourite movies. She came into her room and before Betty could get up, Veronica took off her shoes, walked over to Betty’s bed, opened the sheet and climbed in next to Betty. Betty leaned her head on Veronica’s shoulder and whispered almost to herself, “I was raped.” _

_ Veronica turned to look at Betty with a shocked and concerned expression. She searched Betty’s face for any sign of false information but her face was so pale, so thin and so helpless that Veronica just  _ knew.  _ Veronica leaned forward and kissed her forehead, pulled back and looked into Betty’s eyes, “By who?” _

_ “C-chic.” _

_ “You’re brother?!” _

_ “N-no no. He wasn’t actually my brother. He was an imposter.” _

_ Veronica nodded in understanding and it seemed as if the whole world went silent. She had a looming question and before she had the chance to ask it, Betty quietly whispered, “I think I might be pregnant.” _

~

She was. And after confirming as such, she booked an appointment to purge the foetus. Her mother, still in shock over the events of what she came home to, signed all the forms without even checking what they were first. Betty aborted the baby and life seemed to go on around her as if she didn’t just kill a child. That she wasn’t exactly like her father, killing innocent beings.

For the last year of high school, her sister returned, only to sweep her mother into “The Farm” and leave Betty high and dry. Betty threw herself into studies and succeeding, regardless of her situation at home. She graduated and got the fuck out of that town.

It took her a while to be touched by anyone, let alone a man in the next year. She barely peeped a word to anyone, always keeping her head down low and avoiding eye contact. When she moved to New York, she finally allowed herself to get into dating, but only with trust and respect. She always deals the cards on sex and she never allows anyone to get too handsy with her. She’s learned to grow, but she’s only human. Sometimes she’ll have bad days and sometimes she completely is fine with diving into sex with someone. 

Her past wasn’t something she shared much of. It wasn’t something to gloat about. But Betty never got closure. When she first moved to New York, she could breathe a little lighter. But as the years loomed on, she was reminded of all she left behind.

And she couldn’t seem to forget. She couldn’t seem to let it go. Every day it follows her around like a guilty conscience. She can’t seem to live in the moment when anytime she’s happy, it gets taken away by some sick twist of fate. So really, she’s scared. That if she is to pursue something with Jughead, that it would be taken away.

Jughead was such a presence. Even before they sat down and had a conversation. He was nice and funny, you’d never know that he was once homeless and living off the streets.  Anytime he smiled, she’d smile, simply because he was happy. It was the first time that she felt truly happy and it terrified her.

Betty sits perched on the bar table, sipping her red wine and pondering. Her life has always been surrounded in darkness but maybe she should stop waiting for it to overtake her and find the light. It’s risky because if she searches for happiness, she often gets disappointed but maybe she should just take a risk.

She’s familiar with disappointment. If it happens again, well, so be it.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the buzz of her phone. She looks at the unknown number and unlocks her phone.

**_Jughead: Hey it’s me._ **

**_Jughead._ **

**_The guy with the weird hat._ **

Betty smiles and replies back:

**_Betty: I thought it was cute._ **

**_Jughead: I think_ ** **you’re** **_cute._ **

Betty blushes and chuckles at her phone. A few minutes pass and just as Betty is about to put her phone away, it buzzes again.

**_Jughead: You free tomorrow?_ **

**_Betty: Well, I don’t know._ **

**_What are you proposing?_ **

**_Jughead: Let’s take a risk._ **

 

tbc

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Risks


	4. Risks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My walls never waver or crack. They’re built with many layers of emotional baggage and PTSD. I’m too scared of what could happen because of all the things that have already happened. Risk is basically a steel arrow straight through a bale of hay. Something completely opposite to what I have vowed my life’s work on. A life of being safe from disappointment. Taking a risk with the hope of something wonderful, eventually getting nothing?
> 
> I can’t think of anything worse.
> 
> So why, for a man I just met, throw that all away?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...*chuckles nervously* Ok look, I'm SORRY! I know. 5 weeks is way too long for you to wait for an update but I'm sorry. Truly. I have had one of the shittest months mentally than I ever had in my life. It has been a whirlwind of emotions and I have lost several friends who I thought were good people (Spoiler Alert: they suck and aren't nice at all.) Writing is supposed to be an outlet for avoiding a blade or a mental breakdown and look, I tried. I tried to get behind my laptop and write but I couldn't. The words weren't working. Nothing was working. But frankly, I love this story and it makes me happy to read and write this sooooo I finished this chapter! Granted, it is a bit shorter than usual but I'm TRYING. 
> 
> Geez, that was depressing.
> 
> But seriously, I feel like I'm getting better at this. I really like this chapter.
> 
> Also, HI RIVERDALE ENDED!! What was that final scene? DUDE! Do they really think we're going to believe Jughead died...sorry my friend but you can't trick me this time (or last time tbh.) He's the fucking narrator. 
> 
> Anyway, read on friends!

 

I must admit. I’ve never been one for taking risks. There’s too much of a chance of failure. Failure was something my mother swore off before she ran away with the circus that was “The Farm.” When she did, it was as if she’d given up all her prior regulations, that  _ I _ was forced to abide by, and accepted  _ her _ fate that she had ultimately failed at a life of perfection. That she married a monster who later died doing what he ultimately claimed was more important than family. Freeing the town of sin. 

As a child, I admired my father. A man who could write a  _ mean  _ article but also rebuild an engine with his bare hands. A man who put his wife’s happiness over his own. A man that valued family over everything and would do anything to protect his two little girls. 

Clearly, he was mentally insane, missing a few vital brain cells. 

Not only was I in pain from what had happened around me, when I found out my father killed several people and shot our neighbour, one of his friends, but I was also consumed with disappointment. I was already struggling with many other burdens but my own flesh and blood going around murdering and taking the innocence out of our sleepy town? Crushed my soul of all things positive.

Failure comes in many shapes and sizes. I take the approach of avoidance.

I tend to not even assert myself in situations to avoid failure. Or disappointment.

This is where my root of not asserting myself into love comes in. Say I was to get married. If it doesn’t work out? I leave heartbroken and it was a big waste of time. I’d rather spend my time doing things I  _ know  _ I will succeed at or I  _ know  _ will end with a positive. My heart is at least safe from misery if I avoid love altogether. 

Failure for my mother was,  _ and I’ve said this several times and you’re probably sick of it, _ imperfection. If you were one minute late to an event, you were a failure. If you were five minutes  _ early _ to said event, you were perceived as desperate. It was perfection. It was 7:00 sharp or a crinkle-free blouse. Not 7:01 or jeans and a baseball tee. It was being  _ presentable _ always.  

I didn’t have time for risks, I still don’t with the deep engravement of my mother’s harsh law-like rules still embedded in me to this day. Risks were something that was stored on the highest shelf of the highest building. Not impossible to obtain but supposedly unattainable. Something that could end horribly wrong or exceptionally well is terrifying to me. Doing something outside of my very small bubble. 

My walls never waver or crack. They’re built with many layers of emotional baggage and PTSD. I’m too scared of what  _ could  _ happen because of all the things that have already happened. Risk is basically a steel arrow straight through a bale of hay. Something completely opposite to what I have vowed my life’s work on. A life of being safe from disappointment. Taking a risk with the hope of something wonderful, eventually getting nothing?

I can’t think of anything worse. 

So why, for a man I  _ just met,  _ throw that all away?

  
  


___

 

One step. Two steps. Breathing deeply as she steps one foot in front of the other with much precision, just as Polly had taught her when she would train for track meets. Run, run, running up the hill and around the pond, back down to the park where children laugh, surrounded with mothers who couldn’t be more proud. Betty observes them for a moment and tears pool in the bottom of her eyelids. But they do not fall. She blinks them away. She’s spent too many years crying over what could’ve been. 

It’s 8:00 am on a Sunday morning, later then Betty would normally be out but with the events of yesterday, she figured she deserved a couple more hours of sleep. Running was something Betty learned to be a positive coping mechanism with the never-ending gears that turn in her brain. 

Sometimes she’ll wake at the crack of dawn and run for four hours simply because she’d have a nightmare of her father. Sometimes it wasn’t the healthiest thing to be doing but hey, at least it wasn’t self-harm. Considering where she started, she’s pretty damn proud she has  _ this _ to keep her going. 

After the engagement party yesterday, Betty copped out of the drinks that were being held at Cheryl and Toni’s penthouse, and instead, made a beeline for her apartment to change into her gym clothes. She had a lot of thinking to do. 

Some people get their thoughts in the shower or in a beautiful place of solitude. Betty thinks best with a high heart rate, blasting Lana Del Rey in her ears.

She’d sat on an immobile, exercise bike and peddled till 9:00 pm just thinking; of Jughead, who was a surprising twist to her otherwise dull future, of Cheryl, whose thoughts about life echo her own, of Veronica and of how offended she had been when Betty had made the comment about marriage. Veronica had almost looked at her with the realisation that this was a different Betty. One that had lost all her dreams from high school. 

It had crushed Betty to see that even Veronica has lost some hope for her future. 

Betty eventually stepped off the bike when her stomach had practically growled at her. With the realisation she hadn’t eaten all day, she retreated home, made a sandwich and went to her room. She figured Archie and Veronica were still out by the time Betty slept. 

Her running was something that not only toned her legs but cleared her mind. 

When the thoughts of her friends had banished, she went to Jughead and is still thinking of him. Betty hadn’t messaged back after he proposed they take a risk. It could literally mean  _ anything  _ and she barely knows this man. Yeah okay, she knows he’s kind and she knows some of his story that she’s  _ sure _ he only just skimmed the surface of. She knows he scratches the back of his neck when he’s nervous and she knows that the dimples next to his mouth only appear with a  _ real  _ smile. 

But she doesn’t really,  _ know  _ him. People can be kind and still be a serial killer.

She knows from experience. 

Why should she trust this man? Because she gets a different  _ vibe _ from him? Because he looks at her like she’s someone worth knowing? 

Betty comes to halt when she reaches the footbridge that goes over a pretty, deserted river. The water runs down and Betty is almost jealous at the simplicity of it. Spending its life running down towards bigger things. Being surrounded by beauty and elegance of the swaying trees and not the cold, dead steel of the coroners' scalpel that investigated the many murders committed by her father or the cracking, faded, white wood on the facade of her abandoned childhood house. 

Betty runs with the river for about 20 minutes before leaving the park and arriving at a quaint little cafe.  _ The Grind  _ stands out of the street like a fly on a wedding cake, with its old bookshop exterior. Complete with dark, battered wood and deep emerald detailing, a menu handwritten on a chalkboard outside and an inviting aura the moment she walks through the door. The interior is even more beautiful, the place littered with bookshelves and little tables for people to wait as the server fetches their delicacies or simply to sit down with a good book while they sip on their freshly made coffee. With t he glass cabinets displaying everything from muffins to brownies to croissants and pastries, she can practically hear her mother from 7 years ago screaming at her to leave. The small, silver bell above the door is the sound of heaven, as she enters the cafe with a skip in her step. There is a second story balcony that overlooks the main floor and a set of stairs in the corner leading up it. It was quiet and only a few customers sat, drinking their beverages and reading a book. 

Betty comes up to the counter and comes face to face with a familiar pair of blue eyes. 

_ Oh, God.  _

Not only does she look sweaty from her run, but  _ he _ looks adorable with his little glasses and his beanieless hair, flopping in front of his face. He’s wearing a black t-shirt that stretches against his chest, showcasing his  _ gloriously  _ toned arms and he has a little apron tied around his waist. If Betty wasn’t thirsty already, she’d be parched.  

“Betty?” Jughead finally looks up from whatever he is doing,  _ she literally can’t pay attention to anything other than his body,  _ and he smiles surprisingly at her. Betty quickly fixes her hair with her hands and walks up to place her hands on the counter. 

“Hi!” She bites her lip and smiles, “Wha-what are you doing here?”  _ Stupid question, stupid question. He literally works there. Abort! Abort!  _ He smiles his little adorable smirk and answers her question knowingly, “Well, I work here.” 

“Right.” She shakes her head at herself before he smiles again.

“What can I get you?” 

Betty surveys the menu behind him and looks at the delicious options. They have the most decadent sandwiches, baked goods and all different drinks. She decides to go for something cold considering how overheated she is from her exercise (and from those  _ arms. _ )  “I’ll just have that guava and passionfruit juice please.” She smiles as he writes her order down and puts the amount into the register. 

“You hot?”

“You have  _ no  _ idea.” She mumbles and he raises his eyebrow.

“Actually I think I do.” He whispers smugly, before grabbing the money she places on the bench. “I’ll come and bring you your drink when it’s ready. Go ahead and pick any book. On the house.”

She nods quickly in thanks and walks over to browse through the books cascading around the bookshelves. The books were, for a better word, a  _ mess _ . But like, an  _ organised _ mess. Books of different genres; from romance to crime to gothic, lay around and Betty itches to pick them up and start placing them on their rightful place on the shelf. Amongst the fallen, she recognizes  _ Beloved  _ By Toni Morrison and picks it up. She walks over to a free table located next to a window and observes the cafe` for a moment before sitting down. 

Picking up the book and reading the front page immediately reminds her of home in Riverdale. Cuddled up on her bench seat with a blanket and reading, nothing but silence apart from the light tapping of the rain against the rooftop. Betty closing her eyes and leaning her head against her window before seeing Archie walk into his house. Betty smiles at the memory and feels the familiar prick of tears in her eyes before she closes the book. She’s not at home and she’s not in her room. She’s not sure she can even  _ call _ it home anymore. It’s probably swarming with  _ Farmies  _ wearing white and drinking oolong tea from coconut shells. 

She hasn’t thought about her home in a while. Her light pink coloured room with her floral bed sheets and pearly white furniture. Betty isn’t even sure that’s  _ her  _ anymore.

Or if it was  _ ever _ her. 

On some dark days, when she’s lost in the maze of her mind, thinking of all the things that are going wrong in her life, she likes to think about what would happen if she could go back in time. To make her house a loving supportive environment for her family, to spend more time with her father and get him to be  _ good _ , to make sure Polly doesn’t leave. She’d think of how she’d help her mother at home and maybe snuggle up next to the fire in winter while they open Christmas presents with nothing but pure glee on their faces. 

But she can’t go back in time. 

Betty picks up the book again and starts to read before being interrupted by her drink being placed on her table. She looks up and Jughead smiles, “I’m taking a break now. Mind if I sit?”

“No no, go ahead.”

He pulls up a chair and sits down with her. Betty smiles shyly before laughing quietly, “What are the chances that I walk into your cafe` the day after I meet you for the first time?” 

Jughead chuckles and shrugs before answering,

“Fate keeps throwing us together.”

Betty raises an eyebrow and the edge of her lip tilts upward in a tight smile.

Fucking fate.

 

They talk for ten minutes before the topic of cars come up. Betty talks about her passion for rebuilding an engine without talking about all the times her father and herself had gone down to Junkyard Steve’s and surveyed the area for old parts. She doesn’t talk about how those were some of the best memories she has of her father before he turned into a blood-hungry killer. She talks about the act of rebuilding something that was once broken, that can put back together again. That after all of it’s travels and it’s breakdowns, it can still be revived. 

Jughead says he drives a motorcycle. Betty almost suffocates at picturing him, straddling the bike, leather on his back as he kicks it to life.

“When I came here, I was young. I couldn’t drive a car so I ended up buying a bike when I needed to travel. My dad had taught me in secret when he was still scraping the service of sobriety and my mother had freaked when she found out. It’s still my pride and joy but it’s getting to the end of its road. It breaks down after riding for a while and there’s a weird sound coming from the gears. Maybe you could check it out? I could bring my bike over and we could fix it, together?”

Betty smile grows and she nods shyly, “Y-yeah. Sure. That’d be great.”

“Okay. Great. I’ve got to go back to my shift but it’s Sunday, so I get off at 12:30. Text me later and we’ll make plans.” Jughead smiles, they bid themselves goodbye and he leaves to go back behind the counter. 

Betty’s smile gradually falls and she mutters a silent  _ shit  _ before standing and leaving the cafe with a whirlwind of emotions.

Once again, Betty runs.

This man has exploded into her life like a Supernova, completely destroying everything,  _ everything _ she believes in his wake. With the way his eyes bore into hers, with no judgement, her world seems shifted. The Earth’s orbit seems to be going counter-clockwise and the sun doesn’t seem to be setting. Yet, the stars come out. They illuminate her in his eyes. They shine through the admiration with which he looks at her. They twinkled when his knuckles brushed her elbow as he stood. She can see the stars in his eyes. 

With the realisation of this shift, to ultimately makes Betty plummet to the ground as she trips. She lands haphazardly on the rocky path of the park once again but instead of getting up, she shifts into a seated position and ponders. 

This beautiful man. 

She can already feel her heart-breaking. The thought of starting this, something that could definitely be one of the greatest companionships she’s ever had with  _ anyone,  _ and it ending. 

Because nothing stays. Nothing  _ good _ stays. 

  
  


___

After my run, contemplating, pondering, percolating on how to go about taking this risk, I headed home with the intention of clearing my mind once again by zoning out, listening to music and writing. But as I sit here, my mind can’t quite move. 

Yet it’s moving all at once. 

All I see is his name swirling around my head, his striking eyes completely unravelling me as he stares into my own, I see his crown beanie covering his inky black hair. I see  _ him.  _

I can’t quite fathom  _ why.  _

_ Why, after less than twenty-four hours of knowing him, is he the only thing I can think of? _

_ Why is he affecting me differently?  _

_ Why can’t I get him out of my head? _

_ Why him? _

I saw him today, again.

_ Cause the world likes to fuck with my head.  _

I,  _ coincidently—because that’s apparently a thing that happens now, coincidences,  _ stumbled upon his place of work while taking a longer run than usual. We sat and talked while he took a break, for me. We talked of mundane things and of things with no importance, just strengthening our comfort with each other. But we talked like old pals. 

Until we weren’t. And we planned a date. 

As he rose from his seat, I couldn’t help but feel conflicted. Because this is different. This doesn’t feel like one of my short term relationships. This feels like a bond made by two souls who have suffered enough pain. Two seemingly different people, with things in common who share a troubled past. Two dead-beat dads and two moms who misunderstood us, who left us. Our stories may be vastly different but not different enough that we don’t understand. 

He doesn’t know about me, but I can  _ feel  _ it. 

This feels like this could break me. 

Jumping head first into this  _ relationship? _ committing this risk? Could crumble the rest of my broken heart. 

  
  


___

 

Betty extends her back against her chair and cards her finger through her hair as she brings her arms to a stretch. She swivels her chair around and stares at her room.

This room. The room that’s become the only home she’s truly felt she’s belonged in. Even with it’s chipped paint and distressed wood, it’s home. It’s a safe environment that she feels she truly fits. In all the years she spent in her pink bedroom in that too big house with that  _ horrendous  _ red door, she never felt more at home then when she is grabbing a book off her little bookshelf in the nook between her window and her desk. 

Her move to New York proved a lot of things to Betty and even though yesterday she was seriously contemplating why she was here, it’s proved that  _ this  _ place is her home and  _ not _ the faded white wood of her old Elm Street home. 

As Betty starts to stand from her chair, her door opens and in walks Veronica in gym clothes. Granted, they’re probably Gucci and she looks better than Betty on a good day but still, they’re gym clothes. And Veronica Lodge doesn’t  _ go  _ to the gym. She just  _ is. _

“Get up B! We’re going to the gym!”

“I just came back from a run.” 

Veronica plants herself dramatically on Betty’s bed and sighs heavily, “Yes but I need to let my frustrations out on a punching bag and I can’t do that  _ here _ so.” Betty looks expectantly at Veronica and raises an eyebrow. 

Veronica sighs once more, “Archie’s kind of pissing me off. He wants to invite his  _ ex-girlfriend  _ to our wedding. His  _ EX!  _ Why? I don’t know. He’s got it in his beautiful little head that his ex would be  _ okay _ with being invited to our wedding and I just  _ don’t  _ know how to say that  _ I _ don’t want her there? Ugh!” 

Betty tries to suppress a laugh at Veronica’s first world problem but ultimately fails when she bursts out laughing. Veronica glares at her and stands again, “Are we going or not?” 

“Fine. Sure. Let me just get my stuff.” 

  


“So why exactly have you been wound up tighter than Christian Louboutin Frenchie Lace-Up boots this past week? I feel like we should just skip the gym and go straight for the massages.” Veronica says as she demounts off the exercise machine, puffing and tired. 

Betty looks up from her punching bag and shrugs, “I don’t know. It’s just been one of those weeks I guess. Plus, yesterday has occupied most of my mind storage so I’m a bit tense.” 

Veronica sits on the bench leaning against the glass window and wraps a towel around her neck, “So what  _ did  _ happen yesterday? And please explain in full detail. I can’t handle your crypt writing shit anymore.”

Betty scoffs and rolls her eyes playfully as she walks over and also plants herself on the bench. She takes a swig of her water and deliberates for a moment before answering, “Well you already know  _ how _ I met Jughead but it taking up most of my mind right now because of how I  _ felt _ . I-it was so... _ different. _ It was so... _ freaky _ . One coincidence after another a-and how he looked at me? I don’t know.” 

Veronica exhales and turns so that she is facing Betty directly. She leans her calf on the bench and places her hand on her knee. She observes Betty’s conflicted state for a moment before she speaks, “This is really weird for you. You always know what to say and you seem so...distraught, conflicted. You met this guy onc—”

“Twice.”

“What? How? When?”

“This morning.” Betty turns her head to Veronica’s surprised look. “I walked into the cafe that he  _ just so happens  _ to work at. That’s insane Veronica. What is going on?”

“It must be fate.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that? It can’t be. There’s no such thing as ‘fate.’ There’s no magic o-or higher power dictating everything I’m doing. It can’t be fate.”

Veronica grabs Betty’s shoulders and calms her down for a moment, “Hey hey relax. It’s ok. I’m  _ just _ saying. This can’t be a coincidence. There’s a  _ reason _ the universe wants you two to meet so stop thinking so logical and just  _ believe. _ Stop thinking with your brain and choose to find faith in your heart.” 

_ Choose to find faith in your heart. _

“...All I’m saying is, you’ve known this guy for like 24 hours and you’re already feeling  _ something. _ If you don’t know what that means to you, maybe you should find out.”   
  
  
  


___

  


Life is tricky. We know this. We’ve all experienced this in one way or another but when you have been told to do something one way for your whole life and  _ then _ told you should do it another way, it kind of...well...fucks with you. I’ve always been told to think rationally and logically. That there’s always a scientific explanation or reasoning for something. But Veronica telling me to  _ believe  _ and to  _ find faith in my heart _ … 

I don’t know how to do that.

I’ve never lived that way. 

  
  


___

 

As Veronica drove them home, Betty got a message,

**_Jughead: Can you meet at 2 today?_ **

Betty smiles in glee and takes a peek to make sure Veronica isn’t looking before replying. 

**_Betty: Yep! I was thinking it might be easier for you to come here and we can work in my underground garage?_ **

**_Jughead: Yeah that sounds good._ **

**_Betty: *Sends address*_ **

**_Archie will be in the apartment so if you want to see him, you can._ **

**_Jughead: And ruin our date? Archie can wait. I have a pretty girl waiting for me._ **

Betty smiles and blushes and Veronica turns her head and raises her eyebrow with a smirk, “Who are you smiling at?” 

“Oh...um Jughead. He’s going to come over and we’re going to work on his motorbike.”

Veronica turns her head back to the road and scoffs, “ _ That’s _ your idea of a first date? How are you supposed to look cute while covered in grease.”

“Hey, I can still look cute Veronica. I’ll wear a cute top under my overalls and I can wear makeup to look beautiful.”

“You’re already beautiful B. He’s going to love you.” 

“Thanks, V.”

Betty looks back down at her phone and replies to Jughead. 

**_Betty:  *blushing emoji*_ **

**_Maybe you could come up after? We can watch a movie and I could make food. That way you can see Archie but still be with me :)_ **

**_Jughead: You had me at food :)_ **

**** **_Can’t wait._ **

As soon as Veronica parks her care in their underground garage, Betty is out, bolting straight for the elevator. She waits impatiently for it to arrive as Veronica strolls up behind her snickering in amusement. Betty pats her foot and pushes the button again, “I swear to God if this thing doesn’t go any faster I’m taking the stairs.” She mutters to herself.

The elevator finally arrives and Veronica and Betty walk in and go up to their floor. Betty rushes past Veronica, runs to the door and unlocks it, making a beeline for the shower.

“You’re just going to get greasy! What’s the point of showering?” She hears Veronica yell as she walks down the hallway. 

“I don’t want to stink of sweat V!” She yells back before she goes into her room. Betty walks into her ensuite, turns on the shower to heat and undoes her hair from its sweaty ponytail before retying into a bun. She grabs a towel from the cabinet and lays it on the rack, then strips out of her workout clothes and steps into the shower.

She faces the shower head and puts her face under the direct line of water rushing out. She stands there for a moment, breathing with the water and letting it hit her face. The calming, melodic tap of the droplets bring solitude to her racing heart.

These last 24 hours have been a rollercoaster for Betty, a constant up and down of emotions; from bickering with Veronica, almost getting hit by a car, meeting Jughead, talking to Cheryl et cetera. She feels completely overwhelmed with emotion and as she stands under the soft spray of the shower, she thinks about everything. She thinks about the way she watches Veronica and Archie and how, in secret, she longs for love like theirs, contradicting everything she’s ever said about love. She thinks about all the times she’s been with guys and used them as distractions to forget about the ache that lies within her heart where love is supposed to be. She thinks about how Jughead looked at her and spoke to her, and how his face lit up when they talked. She thinks about how she felt while running this morning and how she felt yesterday morning before Cheryl and Toni’s engagement party and the striking difference in which it was. Sure she was tied up in anxiety about what she should do with Jughead, but she also felt as if a weight had been lifted off her chest. Yesterday, she yearned for love. She watched Archie and Veronica joke and flirt. She felt sad. She felt annoyed. But now, she feels weirdly calm. 

As the heat of the water subsides, eventually giving way cold that lies beneath, she quickly grabs a bar of soap, rubs it against her sponge and washes herself before stepping out into the cold of the air. Her skin pricks in goosebumps as she reaches for her towel and rubs her body. As she’s about to walk out of the bathroom, she catches herself in the reflection of the mirror. She looks relaxed. There aren’t as many lines etched into her faces, her skin looks smooth and rejuvenated and she smiles. 

She goes to her room, puts on panties and digs out her old overalls, putting them on and grimacing at the size of her against her body. She undoes the clips and puts on a bra and white tight fitted v-neck that shows a hint of cleavage. She redoes one of the clips and grabs her white Keds. She reties her hair into a high ponytail and puts a few strokes of mascara just in time before Jughead sends her a message.

**_Jughead: I’m here :)_ **

**_You want me to come up?_ **

**_Betty: Yep! Just buzz up 410 :)_ **  
  


A few minutes go by before she hears the tell-tale sound of the apartment buzzer and her body feels up with a mix of excitement and nerves. She presses the open button, yells  _ come on up!  _ and waits anxiously for the sound of a knock. When it comes, she shoots up and opens the door with a smile.

He leans against the door and entrance and smirks, “Hi.”

“Hi.” 

  
  
  
  
  


tbc 

 


	5. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope is something that gives the human race something to look forward to, to hold onto. It gives us a lifeline when we need it the most. Hope that something will turn out the way it’s planned. Hope that someone will make it out okay. It gives people a reason to push forward when everything is going under. 
> 
> The worst feeling is when you get your hopes up really high and then getting disappointed when things don’t turn the way you thought. Wishing, hoping for things to get better and then them not. That feeling of excitement, your heart filled with glee and anticipation of what's to come. 
> 
> I’m not hopeful that this date will turn out the way I want. 
> 
> Like, at all.
> 
> Cause when I am, 
> 
> I’m left disappointed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW. I FUCKING KNOW OKAY? That was way too long. I'm so sorry. Here's the explanation. I WENT AWAY! YAY! Italy was amazing. I needed a good ol' break for the harsh realities of life and I just...didn't write? Well I did, and that oneshot will come when I deem it ready buuuut here is CHAPTER 5! 
> 
> Also ummmmmm, I GOT NOMINATED FOR A BUGHEAD FAN FICTION AWARD??? WHHAAAT?! That's HUUUUGE?? I'm so so happy and I feel so full! I am very very new to this writing thing and very very humbled by this...So thank you for all your amazing support! She's certainly had some hard days but it makes me happy that something I love can make other people happy too. Anyways. 
> 
> I didn't want angst but I guess I had to put a little in here. Betty's been through it guys. But Jughead's a hot snack and we love him. 
> 
> Okay also...all those Sprousehart rumours (that literally made me have a panic attack by the way so we don't fuck with the media) ARE FAKE AS HELL AND I LOOOVE THEM FOR CLAPPING BACK THAT WAY. 
> 
> Also, Grammarly says I say "really" too much and I think so too so SORRY FOR THAT. I also use a shit-ton of commas...I...am also sorry. 
> 
> Also, STILL IN NEED OF A BETA!!!! So please please please dm me :) I also don't know how this works at all but I just really want someone to look over my work and make it better :)
> 
> Ok I think I'm done...you can dm me on tumblr if you want something...
> 
> OH OH AND "In these hallowed halls" should be expected v v soon! ;) 
> 
> K enjoy :)

I have weird feelings about hope.

_ Are you really surprised? I have weird feelings about everything. _

Hope is something that gives the human race something to look forward to, to hold onto. It gives us a lifeline when we need it the most.  _ Hope  _ that something will turn out the way it’s planned.  _ Hope  _ that someone will make it out okay. It gives people a reason to push forward when everything is going under. 

Hope is also something that lets people down. 

I want to avoid hope,  _ because what else would I do if not avoid?  _

I don’t want to be hopeful because that’s another thing, on top of everything else, that could send me into a spiral of emotions, eventually causing me to come crashing down and losing myself in the process. I really,  _ really  _ don’t want to hope for anything. I don’t want to hope that, out of this whole weird social experiment that the universe is playing on me, I believe in love in the end. 

God forbid I  _ fall _ in love in the end.

The worst feeling is when you get your hopes up really high and then getting disappointed when things don’t turn the way you thought. Wishing,  _ hoping _ for things to get better and then them  _ not.  _ That feeling of excitement, your heart filled with glee and anticipation of what's to come. 

_ Hopeful. _

So I’m not hopeful that anything will come out of this date. I’m not wishing that I get to kiss him at the end. I’m not waiting for him to smile at me with his little dimples. 

I’m  _ not.  _

_ Like, at all. _

Cause when I am, 

I’m left disappointed. 

 

___   
  


_ “Hi.” _

_ “Hi.” _

_ Oh, Lord.  _

It’s a simple hello. A simple look. A single smirk. The gentle lift of a brow as he utters one word that makes her stomach flutter. 

First of all, 

_ What the fuck? _

_ How does he look that good?  _

And how can he make her feel this way? How, with 24 hours of knowing each other, that she would really like to jump in his arms and lose herself in his eyes? How is it that anytime he smiles at her, she wants to forget everything and just look at him?

His sparkling blue eyes are twinkling with glee as he takes her in, just as she takes him in. Jughead has changed from his cafe uniform into a pair of dark jeans, a white v neck and a glorious leather jacket that fits his body like a glove. His hair is again vacated by his beanie as it was yesterday and a little curl is falling into his face. He looks like danger personified. Maybe not to others, but oh boy, to her he does. Betty visibly swallows. 

Jughead’s half-smirk turns into a full-blown grin as he realises the effect he’s had on her. 

His eyes slide of her body and he bites his lip to try and stifle an amused laugh, “So, you gonna invite me in or what?” 

Betty covers a laugh with cough and shakes her head, “Ah, yeah. Yes. Um, hey.” She shakes her head to herself again and moves to the side to let him in. He looks at her in amusement and she finally finds her voice. “So, Archie popped out for a bit but he’ll be back later. Do you want anything before we start? I don’t know how long it’s gonna take so you might have to get something in your system to keep you going.” She leads him into the living/ kitchen space and advises him to sit on a barstool while she talks. 

“Just a water thanks.” His husky voice sends a shiver down her spine and she seriously questions how long she’s going to last before she jumps him. “You’ve got a really nice apartment. Big. White.”

Betty chuckles as she fetches Jughead a glass and fills it with filtered water from the refrigerator, “Yeah, that’s Veronica. She insisted we get  _ the best _ apartment and  _ of course _ it has to be on the Upper East Side and  _ of course  _ she was going to pay anything that we couldn’t.” She walks around to his side of the island and passes the glass to him slowly. The slight touch of their fingers is electric and as Jughead lifts the glass to his lips to take a big gulp, he eyes her from under his eyelashes and winks. 

_ You handsome bastard.  _

Betty looks away and bites her lip slightly before turning back to look at him once more, only to see his eyes slightly darkened and zoned in on her lips. 

“So, ah, we should go down. We could be using this time for some productivity.”

“I don’t know. I feel like we’re being pretty productive.” 

_ Yeah, devouring each other with our eyes.  _

_ When did this sexual tension come? Because I swear I didn’t want to jump his bones this much this morning. _

Betty raises her eyebrow with a smirk and eyes his empty water glass before grabbing his wrist and walking him to the door. She opens the door and leads them to the elevator and Jughead just smiles. Betty presses G and informs Jughead that he can drive his motorcycle into the basement level when they arrive.

“So when did you meet Veronica? You said Archie’s your best friend and I’m guessing she’s your best friend too.”

“Oh, Veronica came brewing, like the storm she is, into Riverdale sophomore year of high school. She blew everyone away with her New York, chic, slick princess ways. Even Archie or should I say,  _ mostly _ Archie, because even though, at the time, I held quite the candle for Archie, he was taken by Veronica the moment she stepped into Pop’s in a black cape.  _ Cape.  _ She was wearing a cape and a black pencil dress and  _ heels.  _ How could I, the fucking pastel, sugarplum fairy of Riverdale, compete with Louis Vuitton and Prada? And she’s like the complete opposite of me. Black hair, dark eyes, feisty Spanish background. I knew I was old news the moment I saw her.” Betty chuckles as they walk out of the elevator and Jughead smiles fondly. “And I  _ so _ wanted to hate her too. But I couldn’t. She was just a  _ good _ person. She truly is. You’ll see when you meet her.”

They walk to his motorbike and Betty stops short. He doesn’t just drive a motorcycle, he drives a Harley. A  _ Harley.  _

_ This guy is perfect.  _

She genuinely wants to ask him if he’s a perfect robot programmed to come and put her under his spells. “A Harley? Are you trying to kill me?” 

“What?” Jughead smiles innocently as he straddles the bike and Betty swallows, her mouth suddenly feeling very dry. 

“Are you kidding?”

Jughead shrugs innocently and smirks before he kicks the bike alive. Betty runs her hands over the handlebars and Jughead yells over the sound, “Can you hear the weird clunking sound? She’s been doing really well since I got her and I don’t want her to die just yet. You think you can help me, Coop?”

Betty crouches down to survey the bikes gears and nods, “Yeah. I see the problem already. Ride her through the gate, plug-in 1834 and drive her down to the free car space under 410. I’ll take the elevator down.”

Jughead nods his head and drives down and Betty just stares at the back of his bike for a moment.

_ She’s so screwed. _

  
  


He’s parked in her parking space by the time she’s come down to the garage level. 

He’s taken off his leather jacket now and has thrown it over his shoulder. 

_ He looks like something out of a 70’s movie.  _

All she can think is how devilishly handsome he looks and she sighs wistfully before approaching him. He smiles at her and she almost melts at his dimples.

She walks over to her storage compartment as he starts up his bike again and she collects her toolbox. She walks back over to him and he demounts the bike as she does a quick survey over the engine and body. She crouches down and looks back up at him and bites her lip in thought before nodding and speaking, 

“So, this sound could be one of two things. Both to do with your chains. I’ll have to go in and check it but it either needs some good lubrication or there’s a physical kink usually indicating severe wear condition. I’m going to go with that one because now that I’m looking, I can see evidence of misaligned sprockets. I’ll go in and fix it, turn the chains a few times and then lube it up and it should be good.”  

“Wow, you’re really good at this.”

“Yeah, my da--nevermind.” 

“Your dad...taught you?” 

“Uh...yeah. My father…” Betty shakes her head with a sigh and looks down. It’s way too early to go into  _ this _ big of a story.  The dead, murderous father than leads to the psychotic mother and sister, which then ultimately comes back to Betty who is admittedly  _ not okay—mentally.  _

She doesn’t want to taint this new...whatever it is with her messed up past. He’s so  _ good _ . So kind and she knows he wouldn’t judge her but she still doesn’t think that  _ this _ is the moment to expose her true nature.

She’ll tell him  _ a _ truth but not  _ the _ truth. 

“My dad and I used to bond over our love of engines. My sister wasn’t really as interested in it as I was so Dad used to let me help out with whatever he was fixing up.” Betty looks down, suddenly emotional and screws her eyelids shut tightly. She takes two deep breaths and opens her eyes to see Jughead’s full attention on her.

“We...we were gonna fix up this old car together but,” she shrugs, “Life got in the way I guess. He’s dead now. To be honest, I think he died long before he  _ actually _ passed away.” Betty whispers as she picks up her tools again.

Jughead’s eyes widen and he puts his hand on top of hers, stopping her from working. She turns to look at him and it’s as if time has stopped. Jughead’s enlarged iris boring holes into her soul, his soft thumb rubbing circles across the top of her hand. She’s looking into his eyes and she knows that he wants to know more but would never push her to say anything she doesn’t want to. Jughead says nothing at first, just rubs his thumbs over her hands--now absent of the tools, placed gently on the ground--as he did in the park the previous day. Then he gently pulls Betty’s hands up to his lips in a soft kiss. 

Betty watches Jughead as a tear slips down her cheek. He hasn’t even realized the significance of kissing her very scarred hands. 

After kissing her hands, he drops them into his lap and looks at them as he interlocks their fingers. Betty, left awestruck and feeling vulnerable, untangles their hands and Jughead looks up confused before Betty frames his face with her hands. She can see him swallow and look at her lips and before she knows it, her lips are placed firmly on his. 

She’s kissed guys before,  _ obviously,  _ but not like this. His lips on hers feel  _ right _ . Like there’s nowhere else they should be. Like they belong there. 

Like they belong together.

The kisses start soft, just the gentle push and pull of lips against lips, but as Jughead’s hands find purchase on her waist, Betty probes her tongue at the opening of his lips and he willingly accepts it. Betty slowly moves so that she is straddling his legs and he groans softly into her mouth. 

At that moment nothing else, but the taste of his sweet lips, mattered. The warmth of his gentle touch on her waist seeped through the fabric that bore against her skin. She brought her hands around his neck and slowly interlocked her fingers as their kisses found a steady rhythm. 

She felt a warmth brew in the hollow of her chest and suddenly feeling overwhelmed, she pulls back from his lips and burrows into the crook of his neck to hide her blushing face. She feels the vibration of Jughead’s soft chuckle as she lay the side of her head on his chest. 

Jughead pushes back to see her face and leans close so that he can nuzzle her nose, “Hi.” he whispers gently. Betty smiles gently before pecking his lips and getting up. 

She stands with a huff and wipes her hands on her jeans, “We got distracted. Time to finish this bike!” 

  
  
  


If Betty is being completely honest, she’s not listening to a word Jughead is saying. She’s nodding occasionally and throwing in a comment every now and but she’s not really listening. She kissed him. He kissed her. It felt like fire.

They’ve known each other for  _ two days.  _

After their amazing, mind-blowing, heartwarming kiss that Betty still doesn’t quite understand, they worked on Jughead’s bike in comfortable silence. Once they finished, Betty invited him back up to the apartment for something to eat only to find Archie and Veronica snuggling on the couch. 

After a heartwarming reunion, (“dude, I thought you died.” “Archie, how did you get so  _ hard _ ?”) 10 minutes of just manly back-patting, and introductions, they finally sat down with a couple of beers to catch up on what happened over the years. 

Archie is asking questions and smiling so wide and Veronica keeps flicking her eyes over and nodding to Betty in approval. But Betty is  _ lost. _

She feels so full and yet somehow, empty. There’s a hole in her chest where her heart should be, constant thoughts swirling haphazardly around her mind in rapid speeds. 

_ He’s the one. _

_ You’ll get your heart broken again. _

_You could_ **love** _him._

_ It’ll all go up in flames.  _

_ He will treat you right. _

_ Anyone you get close to breaks your heart. _

Life destined Jughead in Betty’s path yet she still feels the internal battle within herself against anything good. She doesn’t want to be broken again. She doesn’t want to get hurt. After everything she’s faced, she doesn’t know if it’s worth jumping into this guns blazing, ready to walk down the aisle. 

Archie and Veronica keep chatting, clueless of Betty’s internal spiralling. Betty feels the familiar tingle in her palms and curls her fingers in, controlling her breathing so the people around her can’t tell she’s struggling inside. She presses hard and deep with her short nails, and the stinging she feels brings a calming reverie around her. She pushes harder and breathes deeper until she feels dripping down her hand. She uncurls her fingers and plants them up to see the skin torn and blood is drawn. 

Betty looks up and looks at Jughead as he smiles and laughs with her friends. She smiles tightly then interrupts the group, “Hey guys, um I’m just gonna go to the bathroom.” She turns her attention to Jughead, “I’ll right back Jug.” 

They all stop talking and as Betty turns to stand, Jughead puts his hand on her arm,

“You alright?”

He’s doing it again. Just like yesterday in the park and today down at the garage. He’s  _ really _ looking at her. His eyes are one with hers and she’s almost afraid to lie and say she is. She breaks eye contact with him and eyes a concerned Veronica quickly. Veronica’s eyes flick down to Betty’s hands and she looks at her knowingly.

Betty puts her hands behind her back and nods with a tight smile, “I’m great guys. I just need to use the bathroom.” She walks off without another word.

She can feel the groups eyes on her as she walks away and when she walks down the hall, into the bathroom and locks the door, only then can she silently break down. 

 

 

As she wipes her eyes and stands, a few minutes later, she feels a light tapping on the door and a soft, “B?” she opens the door with an obnoxiously false smile that Veronica can see right through. Without a word, Veronica pushes Betty back into the bathroom and walks in with her before closing the door and locking it. 

Betty looks at Veronica for a moment before dropping her face on Veronica’s shoulder and letting out a sob. Veronica pulls Betty into a hug and they slide down to sit on the floor, backs against the door.

“Aw B, what’s going on?” She says as she rubs Betty’s hair. Betty pulls her head out from where she was hugging Veronica’s neck and wipes her running nose.

“W-what’s happening with Jughead?”

“He’s fine. He’s talking to Archie but he looks concerned. He thinks it’s about him. Is it?” 

Betty stands, leaving Veronica on the floor, and turns the tap to splash water on her face.

“I’m just overthinking.” 

Veronica stands and walks behind Betty, eyeing her in the reflection of the mirror. “About what?” she says softly.

Betty turns on an exhale and looks at Veronica before speaking quietly, “We kissed.” 

“Betty, that’s great…right?” 

Betty stares at Veronica’s black blouse in the reflection and nods hesitantly before turning to look Veronica in the eyes and furrows her brows, “Yeah yeah it  _ should _ be right? I like him. It’s a bit fast yeah but we have this weird undeniable connection. But I don’t know why I’m not jumping for joy and screaming for the rooftops.” 

Veronica exhales and narrows her eyes as if assessing the situations like the lawyer she is, “Betty, your walls have been up for so long and this is different from your hookups. You haven’t made an intimate connection with someone...ever. Archie and I are really the only people you’ve ever truly let in and it would feel weird to give that to someone else.

“With everything that’s happened in your life, it makes sense that you’re hesitant but listening to Jughead just now and seeing how, after more than 10 years, Archie’s still affected by this person, you can tell Jughead’s a good egg.”

“Good egg?” Betty says with a wet chuckle.

Veronica leans in to hug Betty, “Yeah. He’ll treat you right. He won’t hurt you.” Veronica looks down at Betty and knocks her forehead against Betty’s, “But I can tell him to leave if it’s too much.”

Betty looks into Veronica’s eyes and pulls back, grateful that her friend can read her without even having to utter a word, “Yeah.” 

Yet, Betty feels guilty. This kind, broken man is sitting in her kitchen waiting for her to come out. She feels guilty that her stupid, broken mind won’t let her open up to someone willing to make a connection with her. She feels guilty that she is putting him in a position that makes him feel like he’s done something wrong. As Veronica walks out of the bathroom, Betty falls to the ground once more. Her heart shatters. 

She doesn’t deserve this. After everything she’s been through, she deserves love but all her pain has shielded her from ever feeling love again. It’s taken away her capacity to open up and let someone in. 

When Veronica returns, she looks on at Betty earnestly. She sits down with Betty and pulls her onto her lap. She whispers into the air as if it will break Betty, even more,  _ he’s gone.  _ Betty cries harder.

 

 

\---

“Is she okay?” Jughead inquiries as he turns around to see Veronica come back into the room. 

Veronica’s eyes cast down as she shakes her head and sighs before resuming her spot in the kitchen, “She’s having another one of her anxiety attacks. They’ve been bad lately.”

Jughead’s eyebrows create a line as he furrows them in, sighing in defeat, “Yeah, that’s how I met her.” He pauses for a moment, “Listen, I can go.” He turns to face Archie, “Archie can call me when she’s better and I can talk to her then.” 

“I know she’ll feel bad but tell her, she shouldn’t. I’ve been through the wringer, and I can tell she has too. Just tell her that I’m here and she can call me whenever she wants. Also, tell her thank you. For fixing my bike. 

“And for spending time with me.” He finishes as an afterthought. 

Veronica and Archie nod as he stands and lets himself out, the empty water cup on the table, the only evidence, apart from the crippling girl in the bathroom, that he was ever there. 

 

\---

Life is unkind. It may be a beautiful thing in hindsight but in actuality, by someone who has experienced copious amounts of unfortunate circumstances, it truly is not fair. 

I got given something good, for the first time in my life, but the pain and heartache from my past pushed it away. 

Jughead deserves someone who can stay. Someone who isn’t damaged like a broken doll on the side of the road, old and abandoned. He deserves love, he deserves someone who can support him as much as he supports them. He deserves someone who isn’t me.

Reader, have  _ you _ ever been so affected by someone you’ve only known a couple of days? Have  _ you _ ever felt an immediate connection with someone you’ve  _ just _ met? After everything, would  _ you _ open yourself up? Or do you think I’m wrong for protecting myself? 

I don’t know what to think anymore. It comes and goes in waves, up and down, yes and no. It’s too much to deal with one minute, it’s a beautiful and fleeting opportunity the next minute. 

That’s what happens when you hope. 

Hope sucks. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


tbc. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos are much appreciated especially for a newbie like me :)
> 
> If you want more...comment :P
> 
> and/or...
> 
> follow me on Tumblr: @mrscolesprouse or on Twitter @mrscolesprouse_

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think about love nowadays? I'm writing this from the small corner of my brain that's slowly losing all hope of love...unfortunately. 
> 
> Kudos are much appreciated especially for a newbie like me :)
> 
> If you want more...comment :P
> 
> and/or...
> 
> follow me on Tumblr: @mrscolesprouse or on Twitter @mrscolesprouse_


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